


It’s Still Called ‘Making Love’ When You Do It With Someone You Hate

by blunderingcloudwalk



Category: Gintama
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28800150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blunderingcloudwalk/pseuds/blunderingcloudwalk
Summary: “The first time was supposed to be the last time, and now the second time is supposed to be the last time. It’s supposed to be, but he absolutely aches for her, and he’s sure that she feels it too- if not love, she at the very least craves his body and it’s pathetic but he’s glad that she at least wants some part of him.”Basically just okikagu hooking up over the years.
Relationships: Kagura/Okita Sougo
Comments: 15
Kudos: 57





	It’s Still Called ‘Making Love’ When You Do It With Someone You Hate

**Author's Note:**

> Parts of this fic were inspired by some ideas I found in a fic that is not my own: Beasts in Heat by dwindy (on AO3).  
> I didn’t ask the author’s permission or anything but it should be fine if I credit them? (idk I’ve never done anything like this before. :p)

Kagura is in heat. It’s an annoying part of being a Yato: instead of having a normal period like females from Earth, she gets like  _this_ for a few days each month. She’s agitated and tense and needy; she can’t concentrate on anything. It’s her body’s way of telling her that she should reproduce, even though she’s  _definitely_ not ready for that now. There are two ways to keep the feeling at bay. One of them is to fight, and the other one is, well... you know.

It’s not springtime or anything, but for some reason the feeling is particularly intense today. Maybe it’s because things have been slow around town lately, and it’s been a while since she’s had a good fight. Maybe it’s because she’s nearing adulthood. It’s a week before her sixteenth birthday, and it wouldn’t be too long before she was fully mature. She remembers learning that Yato heat cycles become more intense as you get older, then mellow out when you finish adolescence.

She’s hot and sweating even though it isn’t warm outside. She darts around the house, throwing punches and kicks at the air. Sometimes that’s all she needs to get back to normal, but not today. She’s been killing time at home for most of the afternoon, but Gin-chan is here too, so it’s not like she can properly relieve herself in the other way without him overhearing. Plus, when she gets like this, she’s always preferred fighting to _that_ thing. Even though it feels good, it’s embarrassing and weird... fighting was just more convenient for her.

She can’t help but think of Sadist. Every time they fight, her heart races. There’s just something about the way they move together that always makes her feel good, especially when it’s that time of the month and she aches for a fight. She decides to go see him. They don’t usually seek each other out, but it’s pretty normal for one to approach the other if they’re looking to pick a fight.

“I’m going out for a bit.” She calls to the lazy perm-head, who is laying on the couch, watching the weather channel. 

“Ok, stay out of trouble,” he mumbles, not bothering to turn away from the TV.

She practically runs the distance to the Shinsengumi headquarters. 

Where is he? She doesn’t see him anywhere, but it’s possible he’s out patrolling or something. Just in case, she decides to check his room. She’s never been inside, but she’s seem him there a few times before; she remembers which one belongs to him. 

Kagura makes her way to Sadist’s room and slides the door open.

_Oh._

Her words die before they can leave her mouth.

He’s clearly... in the middle of something.

His pants are unzipped; there’s a box of tissues next to him, and she sees his... Neo Armstrong Cyclone Jet Armstrong Cannon. She’s so embarrassed, she finds herself using the euphemism in her head, not wanting to call it what it really was. 

She gasps, he yelps, he covers himself with his jacket, which is conveniently laying nearby. 

His face is red, his voice is panicked. “Dammit China, haven’t you heard of knocking?!”

“I... I’m sorry.” She’s sweltering and her heart rate seems to double. It’s that stupid feeling.

He sighs in annoyance and shame. “If you need something, just close the door, go outside and I’ll be out in a while. Or just leave, I- I don’t care.” There’s a slight tremble in his words.

_Just leave._ That’s what she should do. But her body doesn’t want her to. It’s a bit funny; if it was a normal day she would probably be disgusted at what she just saw. But instead, she keeps the image in her mind. She... she wonders how it would feel in her hands, her mouth... she wants him to touch her, to satisfy... Kagura knows how gross her thoughts are, but she can’t help it. This sensation reminds her of the time she lost to her Yato blood, but instead of violence, it’s a desire for... him. She feels herself giving in to her instincts.

She steps inside and closes the door. She feels herself blushing, her words are stutters, she’s an absolute mess. Her back is against the door as she slides down to a sitting position. 

“I... I know how you feel...” She does her best to describe her cycle to him. He is silent, but understanding seems to flash in his eyes. She throws away her pride. “I could... if you want... I- we could... h-help each other out.” Her gaze is trained on the floor; she’s practically whispering, she’s scared but she wants she needs. Was it even okay for her to do this with him? Wasn’t this type of thing supposed to be for when people love each other? But she had to admit, she couldn’t picture herself doing it with anyone but him. Sure, they weren’t the best of friends, but she knew him and trusted him; they always had some sort of closeness between them. 

She forces herself to look at him. Was he always this pretty? His hair looked soft. His face was almost girly, but in a good way: long eyelashes, smooth skin. What was she thinking? This was _Sadist_ , of all people. She hated him. But she couldn’t stay like this, she needed to be satisfied. “Sadist, it doesn’t have to... mean anything. I just... I- I need...”

Finally, he speaks. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

* * *

Sougo doesn’t usually get like this, but today is just one of those days. He _is_ a young man after all, and occasionally, he needs to relieve some tension. His shift is over, so he slips into his room, unzips, starts to feel himself. 

He’s only just begun when the door opens. 

China. 

Fuck. She’s probably going to think he’s a disgusting pervert who does this type of thing all the time. He scrambles to cover himself with his jacket, hoping she didn’t see.

He yells at her to leave, but to his surprise, she freezes. He’s never seen her like this before. It’s... kind of arousing. She explains her situation to him, how they could help each other out- only if he wanted to, of course, and it wouldn’t  _mean_ anything.

He asks if she’s sure and she says yes. 

His face is hot, his heart is pounding, he wants, but- “China, you’re fifteen.”

She sounds ashamed, apologetic. “I... I’ll be sixteen in a week. And it’s... not like I chose to be this way. We don’t have to if y-you think I’m too young.”

Does that make it any better? He doesn’t know. If the boss finds out about this, he’s dead. It doesn’t seem right to just do this on a whim but he’s throbbing and  _China_ of all people is right there and she’s beautiful and she’s asking- he’s only dreamed of this moment. 

He sets the jacket aside and she stares, eyes wide. She’s probably never seen one before that wasn’t covered in mosaics. She appears to be overwhelmed, unmoving, taking it all in, he doesn’t know what to do and his body grows impatient, his hips twitch upwards just a little and she finally holds him, her hands are warm and soft and inexperienced, he shows her how to move. She is silent, he is self-conscious of every sound she elicits from him, and she slows down, asks if she should use her mouth. What a genius idea. 

He nods, and he can tell that she’s trying to feign confidence, she clumsily, forcefully takes almost the entire length, she practically bites him- _“_ _ Fuck-“ _ he pulls her head back by yanking on her hair. “China, don’t treat it like a fucking _hotdog_...” he realizes that she’s been gagging, and he loosens his grip on her hair, she takes a shaky breath. “You okay?” 

Her voice is small, her face red. “Yeah, I’m... sorry.” 

“It’s okay.”

They start again, slowly, gently. He finds himself softly petting her hair as he gives her a few pointers, her blue eyes are trained on his deep reds, wordlessly asking if she’s doing it right and the way she looks at him is absolutely adorable. They soon settle into a rhythm, and it’s surreal, sublime. He starts to thrust a little deeper and her tongue finds just the right spot, maybe he should have warned her but he isn’t thinking, he comes and she does her best to swallow most of it, but it begins to spill out. The sight of him dripping down her chin as she stays on all fours, looking up at him, chest heaving- he knows this image is going to live rent-free in his head for the rest of his life.

She shifts to a sitting position, wipes her face with a trembling hand, licks her fingers. “It tastes weird,” she mumbled. He can’t even think of a witty retort, so he just makes some vague gesture with his hands, then cleans up the floor with the tissues he had out from earlier.

He tosses the mess in the trash can, and turns to see her nervously fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. “You’re going to do me now, yes?” 

Where have his words gone? He simply nods, lifts up her skirt as she drops her panties, soaking wet, he takes his time for a few breaths to place his hands on her legs (they’ve always taken his notice, as the cheongsam she wears shows them off quite nicely), he touches, and his thumb presses on a certain part of her inner thigh. He doesn’t know if it’s a pressure point or what but that touch absolutely undoes her. A slight tremor travels down her body, eyes closed, mouth open she wants. He enters her she wants more deeper another finger she clenches at his pant leg  _please_ it’s the first time she’s ever used that word for him it hits him in the heart and of course it would take all this for her to say it. 

He doesn’t want this to end but he knows he should make it quick. They were just supposed to satisfy each other’s urges. Simple, logical, convenient, nothing more. Not to mention the fact that it’s the middle of the afternoon and it’s very possible that someone might come to his room and summon him for work. So he pulls away once her body is satisfied, sucks on his fingers, savors the last that he’ll have of her- because of course, this was going to be a one-time thing. 

They don’t speak. They clean up, she leaves.

* * *

His heart is pounding, his mind is racing as he tries to digest what they just did. Is she actually into him? Was it just the heat of the moment, the weird, messed-up circumstances? Days pass, and they avoid each other. He doesn’t know if it’s on purpose, but their paths just happen not to cross, and it feels safer that way. 

He sees her once, but she doesn’t see him. He’s walking down the street and it looks like the odd jobs trio just got paid- the three of them chat happily as they eat snacks. The boss has a parfait, the glasses munches on chocolate-covered macadamia nuts, and China has her mouth around a hotdog on a stick. It’s embarrassing, but how could his mind  _not_ go there? She looks so innocent and carefree- he walks in the other direction, he doesn’t want her to see him and think of what he’s thinking.

A few more days pass, and it’s her birthday. They can’t avoid each other forever, and he honestly just wants things to be normal again. So he buys a small box of that seaweed stuff she’s always eating and waits on that park bench where she seems to always find him. She’s here. Just act normal, things will be normal, don’t even mention it. 

He throws the box at her. “Happy birthday, dumbass.”

It hits her in the stomach, knocking the breath out of her, but he swears he can see a little tension leave her face. That annoyed expression that he’s so used to is back. “Don’t insult me on my birthday.” They fight, and it’s absolutely cathartic.

They don’t speak about the event at all. They’ve always been shitty at communication, hardly ever having real, deep, meaningful conversations. He hoped that maybe they would just let this fly under the radar because it would be way too uncomfortable to discuss, and they did. Things just go back to normal. If anything, their friendship (if you could even call it that- they were too close to be enemies and too spiteful to be friends) got stronger with time. The thing that happened between them was just a fluke, a mistake, an anomaly born out of their proximity and primal desires. Months pass by, and their paths cross again and again and they have moved on. They have moved on, but they haven’t forgotten.

* * *

It’s been seven months since it happened. He wasn’t trying to keep track but he knows that he’ll always remember that exact date.

It’s just a regular day. He’s at the park, fighting with China. If he loses, this will be his fourth consecutive loss and he will owe her 1,500 yen. He hates to lose, even if there isn’t any money involved, and out of desperation he presses on her weak spot his thumb her thigh of course he remembers the exact spot he remembers everything from that afternoon, she practically goes limp and he gets on top, pins her down, is about to smugly announce his victory but the feeling is there. 

She’s red in the face and when did his hips get so close to hers the silence stretches on for an eternity she softly speaks  _do you want_ of course he does  _yes but we’re-_ she cuts him off  _I know we’re in the middle of the park this is stupid_ he should leave it at that but he can’t help himself he’s a disgusting person he glances at the public bathroom nearby and she sees _I don’t mind if it’s okay with you_

What are they thinking? They aren’t thinking, they just feel as they glance around and see no one, they discreetly make their way inside- the room is empty, to their relief- and jam themselves into a stall. 

Bashful yet blunt, she asks if he would be okay with using his mouth this time-  _this time,_ she acknowledges that there was a last time, he can’t help but wonder if she is like him, remembering every detail and fantasizing about what she would want if there was a next time but of course there couldn’t be a next time but there is and the next time is now, there is so little space but their bodies are strong and damn he had no idea she was this flexible he loves it he buries his face between her pale soft legs and devours relishes every drop of her every sound that comes out of her mouth everything until it is gone and it’s his turn they awkwardly change position and it goes much more smoothly than the first time he goes deeper and harder and she surprisingly takes it, likes it. The whole exchange is quick and dirty, they spill out of the stall and avoid eye contact as they wash their hands, pretending that they didn’t just have oral sex in a filthy park bathroom.

They see each other again the very next day, her group had a job that required them to work closely with the Shinsengumi, and they just act like it never happened. It’s easier that way. Thinking back on it is awkward. The first time was a fluke, but then it happens twice and what does that mean? It’s his fault for touching her, but she was the one who asked, she could have brushed it off but no- it’s his fault. He won’t let it happen again. (He wants it to happen again).

* * *

Does he love her? He doesn’t know. He’s had a crush on her for the longest time. He’s been teasing her since they were kids, she probably knew how he felt but she never seemed to reciprocate. It’s petty, but it hurt him. But then that  thing  happened, not just once but twice, and their relationship became tainted with the question of what they were.

They were enemies, rivals, friends, frenemies, he didn’t know. No matter how much they fought and hated each other, it was obvious that they still cared for each other in some capacity. When they needed to, they would work together; they’ve fought to protect each other in life-or-death situations. Every time they fought, whether it was for or against each other, there was always a hint of camaraderie.

But love seemed too far away. They were too incompatible and volatile. Of course they cared about each other, but they always got on each other’s nerves. She was lovely and beautiful and strong and sharp and lively, but she was also  _really fucking annoying._ Not to mention the fact that they were both too stubborn. Even if they had mutual feelings, she’d never admit it and neither would he. And what if one of them set their pride aside and they tried to love and then that love didn’t last? Where would that leave them? He didn’t want to lose to her, but he also didn’t want to lose her.

So they stayed in this messy limbo of uncertainty because they didn’t know where to go.  The first time was supposed to be the last time, and now the second time is supposed to be the last time. It’s supposed to be- but he absolutely _aches_ for her, and he’s sure that she feels it too- if not love, she at the very least craves his body and it’s pathetic but he’s glad that she at least wants some part of him.

But he sets that all aside whenever he sees her. It’s easier that way. Things go back to normal, that’s good, that’s what he wanted, but their words are laced with venom and their punches are packed with extra force and these changes are microscopic but they’re there, and they hurt him. He wonders if it hurts her too, but he can’t bring himself to ask. She probably hates him for taking her innocence and never speaking of it. She deserved a boyfriend, to hold hands and kiss and say ‘I love you;” not to be crammed into a bathroom stall with some shitty guy who has nothing going for him besides his looks. Or maybe she hates him simply because she has always hated him and he has always hated her and that’s the way it should be. They stepped out of line, but now they’re back to hating each other. It’s the way things should be. 

* * *

He is twenty-one and she is seventeen when they do it again. 

It’s the middle of the night; he just made an arrest after a long stakeout with Yamazaki and they’re heading back to the station. It isn’t a long walk back, and he asks if it’s okay for him to walk while the others take the cars. There’s a few other officers and the job’s already done- they can manage without him. He wants to feel the night air, to clear his head, and to slack off while the others start writing up the report.

It’s a quiet part of town, no residents, no nightlife. The lack of artificial lights allows him to see the stars quite clearly, and he stops to admire, sitting down on the porch of an abandoned half-constructed building. 

Footsteps. China. Why is she here, in the middle of the night?

She looks just as surprised to see him. “Sadist? What are you doing here?”

“Work. What are you doing?”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I took a walk.”

“Couldn’t sleep?” He hates how automatically the next words come out of his mouth. But what are odds that they’re here together when it’s dark and the mood is right? “Well, nighttime is only good for two things: sleeping and sex.”

It’s too dark to properly read her expression, but he can hear the flippant smile in her voice. “Real subtle, aren’t you?”

He feels like he has to take some sort of responsibility because he’s older and he told himself that it wasn’t going to happen again, and then he basically just asked if she wanted to do it again. “I’m not gonna pressure you into doing anything. I never have and I never want to.” It’s the closest they’ve ever gotten to discussing the thing between them and it’s incredibly uncomfortable, but a bit freeing.

“I know. I... appreciate that.”

She moves closer, they make their way deeper into the building, it’s the middle of the night and there’s no one around but there’s a bit of suspense in the air. They’re really just going to drop everything and do it in some shady half-built building? Of course they are; he can never think when things get like this with her. 

She unceremoniously sits on his lap. There seem to be unspoken agreements between them. Get it done as quickly as possible, don’t talk about it when it’s over, don’t kiss, don’t take off any more clothes than you need to, don’t do anything that isn’t necessary, just pretend that this has no consequences, just pretend that it doesn’t affect the shaky relationship that we have. He can’t help but wonder if it would better to just talk things out, but he doesn’t know how.

Tears well up in her eyes as her sex accommodates his full length. He asks if she’s okay, and she says that it hurts a little, but it’s good. “You’re into that kind of thing?” Oh, the  _fun_ he could have with her if she turned out to be an M. 

“Not like that, idiot. It... feels good even though it hurts. And it’s just a little, I think I’m just not used to...”

He wants to wipe the tears away, he wants to coddle her and whisper sweet nothings into her her ear but he can’t because that’s what lovers do, and that isn’t what they are. He keeps his hands firmly on her waist, and he starts to move gently. To his relief, she begins to relax and follows his lead.

Their bodies really are a perfect match. He’s thought it countless times before in a more innocent context because of their fights, but now he knows that they are perfectly suited to each other in this way too. Even though there’s a bit of conflict in his heart, it all melts away for now as he lets himself become completely enthralled by how immaculately they fit together they match pace their voices mingle and echo off the walls everything,  _everything_ just feels so indescribably good and he doesn’t want this moment to end.

But of course it comes to an end, and they walk home in silence- it’s surprisingly not as awkward as he thought it would be. As they part ways, they even say goodnight. But it feels... empty.

* * *

Things go on like this for the next two years. Are they friends with benefits? Maybe you could call it that but it honestly reminds him more of an addiction. Every once in a while when they get together, something happens to trigger those feelings, and they end up fucking like animals- not like they want to, but like they _need_ to- it’s rushed and secretive, the bare minimum. It doesn’t matter where they are: in his room, in yet another public bathroom- one night, the boss is out drinking and he goes to the odd jobs place and does her on his desk. They pretend that every time is the last time, they never speak of it, they never do it again... until a few months later when they inevitably do. Sometime during those two years, he realizes that he really does love her. But it’s too late, isn’t it? He doesn’t want to ruin what they have. No matter how messed up it is, at least they have  _something_.

* * *

He gets his own apartment when he is twenty-three and she is nineteen. He casually mentions this to her one evening, and she casually asks if she can come and take a look at the place. 

They walk together, and when they arrive he does give her a little tour because knowing China, she probably did want to see the place- in addition to their obvious ulterior motives. Well, there was nothing wrong with it. They were just a couple of adults doing it in the comfort of his own home. She had grown up, and the boss respected that fact; he didn’t keep tabs on her and give her a curfew the way he did when she was younger- though Sougo knew he would panic if she was gone for the entire night. But there was no reason for her to be gone for the entire night. The exchange should be quick and desperate, as it always was.

It’s not that big a place, and he quickly gets to the bedroom- their last stop on the tour. He suddenly realizes that they don’t _have_ to rush if they don’t want to. They’re not doing it in some shady place; there’s no fear of being caught. He closes the door and immediately breaks one of their unspoken rules. He kisses her. He kisses her forcefully and passionately; he kisses her like he’s an idiot who can’t speak and can only convey his feelings with his body; he kisses her with a desperation that he would be ashamed of if it weren’t for the fact that she kisses him back; he pushes her down onto the futon and kisses her kisses her kisses her he never wants this night to end.

She undoes her hair ornaments- why she starts with those, he has no idea. He unbuttons her cheongsam because rules are made to be broken; her bra and panties are lacy red and he wonders if she wore them for tonight. He wishes he could take more time to appreciate the striking contrast of crimson against her pale skin but he is impatient and before he knows it the two of them are completely bare. 

She’s gorgeous, beautiful, so completely wonderful that he has to stop and stare. Her soft, supple curves, her solid, well-defined muscles... Her snow-white skin practically invites him to defile it- it’s  _too_ perfect, not one bit of her body deviates from that pure pigment except for her her pink nipples, he reaches out and pinches, twists she squeaks he loves to see her squirm. He takes every inch of her body, takes it with his eyes hands mouth he wants to know every part of her he wants her to be his and to his delight she does the same with him. He pins her down and they practically wrestle; they do everything they can to make this last as long as possible. 

It seems like every time they want to say something important, they use their fists and not their words. They use their bodies. When it comes to something as complicated as ‘I love you,’ he knows that it’s the kind of thing you have to say out loud, but he tries his best to say it without words because he’s a coward. He pounds into her with every ounce of his strength, giving her not just his love, but all the messy confused feelings that he’s accumulated from the five years he has known her. He worries that he’s hurting her, but she responds, she reciprocates, and if anything he’s the one who’s in more pain because her physical strength will always beat his. But pain has never felt this good. Her walls tighten around him, he lets out such a loud moan but he’s not even ashamed because it’s so  _fucking_ cathartic and she’s moaning too her slick wet sex clenching around him, sucking him in- he didn’t know it was possible for him to go deeper but it somehow is and she’s never had an orgasm this intense he wants to prolong it he knows he has to pull out soon but he doesn’t want to think about that for now-

As if she can read his mind, China locks her legs around him and speaks quietly yet decisively. “Don’t pull out.”

“I... China, I have to-“

Usually when they reach this point her eyes are half-closed, but now they are wide open and serious, the bluest of skies. She shakes her head. “Don’t.”

It’s not like he’s ever  _enjoyed_ pulling out, and he honestly doesn’t know if he could break the iron grip of her legs anyway, so he stays. 

It’s bliss. Spreading his seed inside her, he feels like he could melt from pure satisfaction. She thanks him with every thrust of her hips. His eyes are closed, but he opens them just to see her. Her mouth is the softest of smiles, her cheeks are tinted pink.

When they separate, they lay next to each other in amicable silence. His hand finds hers. Moments pass. He doesn’t want to ruin the mood or anything, but he knows they have to address it. He turns to her- _damn,_ is she beautiful.

“China. you know that I could have gotten you pregnant.”

Her eyes shift. “Yeah, I- I know. It’s my fault; I’m the one who asked you... but I want you to know that I’m okay with it, really. It’s not like I was thinking things through right then, but I’ve thought about it before. I’ve always wanted to be a mother someday. I mean, it would be your kid too and I don’t know if you would want a part in it, but- I mean, if I’m going to have a child with someone, well, I would  _want_ it to be you because I, uh, you know... are you even listening to me?!”

Sougo realizes that he’s only really been half-listening. His reason is idiotic, but he answers honestly. “I can’t think when you’re naked.”

Her face turns red and she mutters something about how stupid men are.

“I know, I  _am_ stupid- but I mean can you really blame me it’s my first time seeing you like this and you’re really fucking attractive, just saying...” he trails off. “Uh, anyway, I’m sorry. You were saying that it’s okay with you if you end up having a kid?”

She looks like she’s going to cry. “I was basically just about to tell you that I love you.”

He’s shocked, snapped back to reality. Even though it shouldn’t be that much of a surprise after they so intensely made love to each other, he never thought he’d actually get to hear those words from her. She deserved better than him. “You... you can’t. I treat you like shit.”

“And I treat  _you_ like shit. Aren’t we perfect for each other?” Her expression grows tense. “It’s fine if you don’t feel the same, really.”

“What makes you think I don’t feel the same?”

“I don’t know. You’re so... weird.  _We’re_ so weird. We never talk about anything. We’re always at each other’s throats. When we were kids, you used to flirt with me in your creepy little sadistic way, but then you stopped the flirting and just kept making fun of me. That was around the time we started hooking up- I never knew if you actually liked me or if you just liked my body and I was too afraid to ask. I was  _young;_ I didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t even realize I really loved you until recently, and I wasn’t planning on telling you but then, tonight happened. I mean, you felt it too, yes?” Her eyes are the bluest of skies, and it’s raining.

Sougo can’t remember the last time he’s cried in front of someone, but his eyes well up, seeing her like this. He holds her face, wipes her tears with his thumbs. “I’m sorry. I had no idea I was hurting you like that. Really, I’m an idiot when it comes to feelings.” He takes a deep breath. “China... Kagura?” He tentatively tries her given name.

“‘China’ is fine.”

“I thought you hate being called that.”

“I did at first, but... it’s kind of cute. It’s your name for me. it’s special.” She blushes as she says this.

He doesn’t deserve a girl that’s this adorable. “China, I love you.”

“Really?”

“Completely. Absolutely. Uh... I can’t think of any other words. Honestly, I suck at words. But really, I love you. It took me too long to realize it; it took me too long to admit it, but I love you and I’m sorry for hurting you and confusing you and everything. You know, I actually started the whole sadist thing because of my inner insecurities.”

Her eyes widen. “No way.”

He smiles. “Well, part of me is probably just a natural asshole, and I will admit that I enjoy being a sadist. But in the beginning, I really did start it because I felt bad about myself and I didn’t know how to treat people and I was afraid.”

“Damn. I never would’ve thought.” Her voice is a surprised whisper.

“Just for the record, I’m not gonna turn all soft and non-sadistic because I told you this.”

She laughs. “Well, you wouldn’t be guy I fell in love with if you actually started being a decent person, huh?” Her tone becomes more serious. “But things still have to change. Of course I still want to keep up our fighting and everything, but we have to start communicating, yes? Telling each other what we really mean. I don’t want our relationship to fall apart because of a stupid misunderstanding. I don’t want our relationship to fall apart at all.”

She’s so much braver and more eloquent than he is when it comes to talking. “I agree. I’ll try my best.”

“Good.” 

They kiss, and it feels even better than before. The barriers between them are gone. They are free.

“So,” Sougo says, “Do you wanna have a shotgun wedding if you end up pregnant?”

She giggles. “How scandalous.” Then she gasps. “Hey, this is basically what happened between my parents! It don’t think it was as drawn-out and weird as our thing, but they would fight all the time and then they suddenly got married after my mom became pregnant with Kamui. I guess it runs in the family.”

He groans. “Your dad is going to kill me.”

“We’ll cross that street when we come to it,” she says in a lighthearted tone.

“It’s ‘cross that  bridge,’ dummy. And of course _you_ aren’t worried; you’re not the one who’s gonna be killed.”

“Ah, you’ll be fine~” She rests her head on his chest. “You love me.”

“Uh... yeah.”

She smiles. “You’re still embarrassed, aren’t you? I don’t mind; it’s cute.”

“Shut up.”

They stay up for hours, talking, saying all the things that they’ve wanted to say for years, learning things that only words can express, sharing their hopes for the future, trading stupid insults as they always did and always will do.

China is still using his chest as a pillow and it’s surprisingly comfortable. He feels his eyelids getting heavier, and he lets himself drift off to sleep because he knows that she will be there in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> -1500 yen is close to 15 USD in case you were wondering
> 
> -fun fact: the line about nighttime being good for two things an actual line that Sougo says in the Silver Soul arc (though he’s not talking to Kagura lol)
> 
> -Random thought but is it just me or is Sougo’s POV so much easier to write? I was gonna make this from both perspectives but he just kinda took over. And now that I think of it, most fics I see are from his perspective
> 
> -Thanks for reading, feel free to comment your thoughts :)


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